


Gift

by mistleto3



Series: Yatamoto [3]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Bondage, Fluff, Food Play, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Summer's Kamamoto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6896593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistleto3/pseuds/mistleto3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misaki surprises Rikio with a birthday gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FilthyKstories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FilthyKstories/gifts).



> Birthday smut for my underappreciated fave. 
> 
> This one's based on a headcanon by [filthykmusings](http://filthykmusings.tumblr.com) on tumblr. The headcanon is "I thought this list was missing some kink and my first idea was ‘they lick food off each other.' Maybe Yata tries that tho to stop Kamamoto from losing weight too fast" from [this post.](http://filthykmusings.tumblr.com/post/143916194410/i-love-your-blog-a-lot-3-do-you-have-any-yatamoto)
> 
> This story can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/144576093434/gift)

When Misaki heard the front door open and Rikio’s voice drifting in, he immediately felt a wave of nauseating mortification flood across his body, and his cheeks began to burn. It was Rikio’s birthday, and the mid-May warmth was teetering on the cusp of summer, which meant that Rikio had lost almost all of the padding he carried the rest of the year, despite Misaki’s best efforts. He had cooked for him, made sure his fridge was stocked, and nagged him endlessly about the health risks of dropping so much weight so quickly, but Rikio’s appetite had almost vanished nonetheless. His stomach was getting flatter, and the shadow of his ribcage was almost visible in the right light if Rikio stretched his arms above his head.

Misaki didn’t like it when Rikio got so thin. It wasn’t that he found him less attractive, but he didn’t seem as much like the Rikio he knew (he’d always been a little on the heavier side when they were kids), and he fretted endlessly about gallstones and mineral deficiencies and a long list of other potential side effects of Rikio’s crash diet, even though his health had never once been put in jeopardy before by the seasonal changes in his figure. Not to mention the sudden influx in female attention that Rikio got in the summer. While Misaki was a big proponent of respecting women, the winks and wolf-whistles and glances that lingered a little too long on his boyfriend’s backside made him want to punch something.  

Rikio’s birthday, therefore, had been seen by Misaki as an excellent opportunity to try and stem the rapid weight loss. The day before, he’d spend the entire afternoon attempting to bake Rikio a birthday cake (which had come out tasting pretty good, though the decoration left something to be desired.) He’d stayed over at Rikio’s apartment that night, and woken him with breakfast in bed (and a blowjob, but that was beside the point), then shelled out at a reasonably upmarket restaurant for lunch, and was somewhat encouraged when Rikio had actually eaten most of his plateful for once. It’d had to be lunch rather than dinner because Rikio hadn’t been able to get out of the evening shift at his part-time job, about which he’d apologised profusely many times to Misaki, despite Misaki’s constant reassurance that it was fine and it wasn’t his fault. So Misaki had been left alone with his imagination in his boyfriend’s apartment for a few hours, trying to think of a way to surprise him when he came home.

The cashier at the corner store he’d visited had given Misaki quite the odd look when he emptied the contents of his basket on the register: a bottle of chocolate sauce, a spool of red ribbon, a can of whipped cream, and a bottle of cherry-flavoured personal lubricant. His cheeks had gone almost the same shade of scarlet as the ribbon as she subtly raised an eyebrow, but he kept his lips clamped shut and resisted the urge to protest that it wasn’t what it looked like, mostly because him protesting that it wasn’t what it looked like would only confirm that it was, indeed, _exactly_ what it looked like. Instead, he had hurriedly scooped his purchases into his backpack and hurried out of the store without waiting for the cashier to give him his change. If it weren’t for his resolve to get Rikio eating more, he would have abandoned the items right there and gone home empty-handed.

That resolve dematerialised all at once the moment Misaki heard Rikio’s voice announcing that he was home. But it was too late now; Misaki would have had barely a minute before Rikio came into the bedroom and discovered him, not nearly enough time to hide the evidence of the plan he’d formulated.

Rikio froze in the doorway when he finally entered his bedroom, staring in shock at the sight laid out before him. Misaki lay sprawled out naked on his back with a towel spread underneath him to protect the sheets. His wrists were bound to the headboard with a length of the scarlet ribbon, and an abstract pattern drawn in chocolate sauce criss-crossed his chest and his stomach, scattered with a few swirls of whipped cream. The cream and sauce, accompanied by the bottle of lubricant, had been stood on the bedside table beside him.

A long moment passed before Rikio could muster the words to speak through his shock, and in that time Misaki felt himself grow, if possible, even more embarrassed. He hadn’t stopped to think about what he would do if Rikio wasn’t into this until now, and the prospect of being rejected made him want to sink into the earth and have it swallow him whole. He’d never been so utterly mortified in his life.

When Rikio finally spoke, his voice was quiet and shaky, but gruff. “H-holy fuck,” he breathed, his gaze raking across his boyfriend’s naked body with a completely enraptured look in his eyes. He cleared his throat, and the tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips. His trembling hands headed hurriedly for the hem of his shirt, and he tugged it over his head in a swift movement as he padded over to the bed and climbed onto it to kneel over Misaki, who let out a gasp of relief as Rikio’s mouth pressed firmly against his collarbone, sucking the chocolate sauce off the bare flesh. His tongue quickly began tracing the patterns that Misaki had drawn on his skin, until one of the lines ran across Misaki’s nipple, and his mouth paused to suck on it for a moment.

“S-so, you like it?” Misaki ventured, his voice breathy.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Rikio’s reply was firm, and he spoke the words having barely lifted his mouth away from Misaki’s skin, then his gaze flickered up to his lover’s face. “Though, I didn’t think you were quite this submissive.” He raised an eyebrow.

“I-it’s your birthday, so you should be allowed to do whatever you want to me.” He blushed at his own candidness, and quickly added: “But I’ll pound you into the mattress tomorrow to make up for it. D-don’t expect me to get all… like _this_ every night.”

Rikio stole a brief kiss. “Of course I don’t expect this every night. I like it when you take control too. But this…” He cast his eyes down across Misaki’s bare skin, streaked with splashes of sticky chocolate sauce. “This is really freaking hot every once in a while.”

“G-good.” Misaki felt the knot of anxiety in his stomach begin to unravel at Rikio’s words, and the ravenous look in his eyes sent blood rushing to his groin.

“Say that again…” Rikio murmured, his lips ghosting across Misaki’s cheek towards the corner of his mouth.

“S-say what?”

“That I’m allowed to do whatever I want to you.”

Misaki cleared his throat in embarrassment, then whispered: “Please… do whatever you want to me.”

Almost before Misaki had finished speaking, Rikio crushed their mouths together. The kiss was urgent and tasted faintly of chocolate, and there was almost a hunger in the way Rikio nibbled at Misaki’s lips to get him to part them so he could slide his tongue forward to meet Misaki’s. When Rikio finally broke the kiss, he did so with great reluctance, but his mouth instantly moved back to Misaki's chest to continue lapping away the cream and chocolate. His lips ventured down to Misaki's hip, tantalisingly close to his cock, before they strayed away from it again, eliciting a whine of protest.

By the time Misaki’s skin was almost clean, the teasing had him panting with arousal, and a drop of precum clung to the tip of his erection. Rikio paused for a moment to admire how quickly Misaki had come apart at even such gentle ministrations. Little desperate expletives that escaped Misaki's bitten lips at a whisper that he couldn't quite bite back, and Rikio's face reddened at the lewdness of the sight spread out before him; his boyfriend lay sprawled on the bed, his legs spread as he gasped for breath between quiet moans. His cock was rock hard without so much as being touched, and it twitched whenever Rikio's breath ghosted across his skin. Unable to resist giving Misaki a little relief from the torment, Rikio grabbed for the lubricant and poured it onto his hand, then wrapped his fingers around his shaft and started pumping him slowly. Misaki swore loudly, bucking his hips towards the friction.

"You bought flavoured lube too?" Rikio inspected the bottle as he caught a whiff of the candy-sweet fragrance, then glanced up at Misaki’s face, a mischievous look in his eyes. He leaned down slowly and ran his tongue up the underside of his length to taste it.

Misaki gave a bashful huff in response, though his embarrassment quickly turned to a hiss of pleasure as Rikio’s lips wrapped around the head of his cock and slid slowly down towards the base. Misaki’s hands twitched against the restrains, itching to tangle his fingers in Rikio’s blond hair, to push it back out of his face so he had a better view of his lips gliding up and down his shaft. As Rikio worked Misaki’s cock, he reached for the bottle of chocolate sauce and uncapped it, then drizzled a few shaky lines across Misaki’s torso. He tossed the bottle aside and moved his mouth again to lap the sauce up, his tongue lingering a little longer than necessary over the hard contours of Misaki’s abs. Misaki groaned in protest as Rikio’s mouth left his cock, then let out a second sound, this time of pleasure, as he felt a fingertip circle his entrance teasingly before pressing inside.  With each thrust it pushed a little deeper, until Rikio recognised the way that Misaki’s hips rolled towards the attention as his way of signalling he needed more.  As he lapped up the last of the chocolate, Rikio added a second finger, then a third, curling them into Misaki’s prostate and earning a half-strangled yelp as Misaki tried to bite back his voice.

When the chocolate was gone, Rikio trailed kisses down Misaki’s stomach until his head was positioned between his thighs, so he could lick away the sweet lubricant that was still slicked up his cock and had smeared across his ass when Rikio had slid his fingers inside. Misaki began to rock his hips in earnest, unable to decide whether to thrust down onto Rikio’s fingers or up into his mouth.

As soon as Misaki had relaxed enough around his fingers, Rikio withdrew them, unable to hold himself back any longer. He unfastened his fly hastily and kicked off his sweatpants and boxers in one swift movement, then knelt between Misaki’s legs. His hands shook in anticipation as he poured the lubricant into his hand and rubbed it onto his cock, painfully aware of the lust in Misaki’s eyes as he watched his every movement, captivated.

Rikio tried to be gentle as he pushed the head of his length past Misaki’s entrance, but the moment he began to press inside Misaki bucked his hips hungrily, forcing him in deeper and drawing low moans past the teeth of both men.

“You don’t have to be so freaking softly-softly with me all the time. I can take it rough.” Misaki hissed, and Rikio responded with a deep thrust, straight in the direction of his sweet spot. Misaki threw his head back, his cry of pleasure hitching in his throat. He was determined not to allow his normal bashfulness to silence him; he was getting better at letting go of his embarrassment and self-consciousness in bed, but he still had the urge to dampen his yells and retain control of himself from time to time. Nevertheless, the torturously slow teasing and his determination to make the night special for Rikio had him losing himself within a few minutes. Grunted curse words and shouts of Rikio’s name spilled past Misaki’s lips until his throat was raw and his voice cracked. The quick and none-too-gentle pounding of Rikio’s hips against his own, combined with the friction of Rikio’s hand, which had found its way between Misaki’s legs to pump him in time with their movements, quickly had him screaming

Rikio swore under his breath at the sight of Misaki’s face, flushed red, his forehead damp with sweat and his lips parted in ecstasy. He groped blindly for the can of cream with his free hand, unable to tear his eyes away from that sight. One he finally closed his fingers around it, he squirted a spot of cream onto Misaki’s lower lip, then kissed it away hungrily, and Misaki’s tongue slid forward to meet his own. The kiss was sloppy and eager, both of them having lost their composure long ago. Rikio’s free hand slid slowly up Misaki’s chest, worshipping the tan skin and hard muscle beneath it, then he trailed his fingertips along his arm and up to his wrists. With a flash of his aura, he burned through the ribbon, freeing Misaki’s trembling hands, and they instantly flew to Rikio’s shoulders, his nails digging into the skin as he raked them down his back in lust. Rikio arched his back into the slight pain, and squirted a kiss of whipped cream onto Misaki’s neck, then pulled his lips away from Misaki’s to press them to his throat, sucking the cream away from the flesh. He didn’t pull his mouth away until long after the cream was gone, and he was certain he’d leave a bruise staining the skin. Misaki’s head rolled to the side to give him better access, beyond caring about how he’d hide the mark the next day.

The desperate bucking and rolling of Misaki’s hips quickened with every passing minute, his movements becoming jerky as he neared the edge. He came without warning, his eyes squeezing shut with the force of the orgasm that wracked his body. His cries caught in his throat as ribbons of cum splattered across his stomach and dripped through Rikio’s fingers. Rikio whimpered in pleasure as Misaki twitched and tightened around him, giving a few more erratic thrusts before pulling out and spilling his load onto Misaki’s abs with a low groan. He then promptly dropped to his hands and knees to lap up the cum that painted Misaki’s stomach, as he had done with the chocolate sauce not long before. Misaki swore breathily at the sight, then let his head fall back onto the pillow, panting hard. Rikio collapsed beside him once his lover had been licked clean, his arms shaking, and they lay side by side for a moment, gasping to catch their breath. When the aftershocks of Misaki’s orgasm had finally subsided, his shyness returned in full force, not helped by the adoring way that Rikio stared at him, a smile spreading across his lips and the corners of his ebony eyes creasing.

“H-Happy birthday.” Misaki muttered, and Rikio chuckled and kissed his forehead.

“Thank you. For everything you did for me today.” The genuine quality to Rikio’s voice had Misaki’s cheeks burning once more.

“It’s my job; I’m your boyfriend.” The word still tasted foreign on Misaki’s tongue sometimes, even though it’d been a few months now since they’d gotten together. But it felt natural to say in that moment, though Misaki supposed that might have had something to do with the fact that a few minutes earlier, he’d been tied to the headboard with his legs spread, screaming Rikio’s name.

Rikio’s smile widened, and he stole a brief kiss before his grin became playful. “I have to ask; how did you get your own wrists tied to the headboard?”

“With great fuckin’ difficulty.” Misaki grumbled, and Rikio laughed once more, reaching for the spool of ribbon that had been left on the bedside table.

“Maybe next time you can tie _me_ up.” He mused aloud, snaking his arm around Misaki’s shoulders to pull him in close.

Misaki huffed at his candidness, but snuggled up the warmth of Rikio’s body nonetheless. “Watch your mouth or I just might.”

Rikio ran his fingers through Misaki’s hair admiringly. “This really has been the best birthday I’ve had in a long time. And that might have been the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

His earnestness made Misaki click his tongue. “Don’t say embarrassing stuff like that.”

“Well it wa-…”

Misaki silenced him with a kiss.


End file.
